


Geraskier Kink Bingo 2020

by tinymacaroni



Series: Witcher smut [6]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Beta Jaskier | Dandelion, Biting, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Come as Lube, Comeplay, Deepthroating, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Fucking, Fisting, Fuck Or Suffer Unspecified Health Consequences, Hand Jobs, Knotting, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Nipple Play, Omega Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Prompt Fill, Restraints, Sensory Deprivation, Sex Pollen, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Top Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Top Jaskier | Dandelion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:55:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26106073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinymacaroni/pseuds/tinymacaroni
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Witcher smut [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1660198
Comments: 18
Kudos: 264
Collections: Geraskier Kink Bingo





	1. Find me in the dark (sensory deprivation)

E-O5 - Sensory Deprivation

Geralt watched Jaskier from the back corner of the tavern, trying to tune out the ambient noise around him and focus on the bard's voice and the notes he plucked from his lute. He wasn't even really listening to the words, just letting Jaskier's smooth tenor wash over him. It was hard to admit, but he really did love Jaskier's voice - it was soothing, and easy to hone in on when things got overwhelming. The end of some jaunty ballad or another faded out, and Geralt grimaced as he recognized the first notes of Toss A Coin; he caught Jaskier's eye and jerked his head toward the stairs, going up to their room before the drunken rabble became unbearably loud. The song was a large part of why he was able to pay for a bath and a bed in most towns they passed through, and he didn't mind Jaskier singing it to every crowd he could, but everyone liked to sing along to the chorus, and some nights it was just too much for his sensitive ears. So, they'd fallen into a routine: whenever Geralt needed to leave a performance early, he'd catch Jaskier's eye to let him know, and then wait for him in their room or their camp, wherever they'd chosen to sleep that night. Jaskier always cut his performances off a little early on those nights, coming back to his witcher as quick as he could, and Geralt was grateful, though he had trouble saying as much.

"Hey." Jaskier's voice was soft as he stepped into their room, another thing Geralt was immensely grateful for. "How're you feeling?"

"Tired. Tense. Everything's just... too much." He'd left the lamp on for Jaskier, but had his eyes shut tight against the light, and even from two floors up and with three or four tankards of ale in his system, the crowd downstairs was grating on his nerves.

Jaskier made a small sympathetic noise, setting his lute in its case on the table and toeing out of his boots before moving to join Geralt on the bed. "Can I touch you?" Geralt nodded and Jaskier pulled him closer, pressing a soft kiss to the nape of his neck. "I had an idea about that, actually."

"Mm?" Geralt leaned back into Jaskier's touch, nearly losing his balance as the bard reached down to root through his bag with one hand, the other still curled protectively around Geralt's waist.

"Oop, sorry dear. Anyway, you don't have to use them of course, but..." He pulled out a few things and held them out in front of Geralt: a pair of small wax plugs, and a wide, thick piece of supple black leather.

"What are they?"

"A blindfold and earplugs." Geralt turned to look at him, almost confused, and Jaskier immediately began to worry this had been a mistake, something he shouldn't have pressed. "L-Like I said, you certainly don't have to use them, I just thought what with-" He broke off midsentence as Geralt leaned in, kissing him softly.

"Thank you." The raspy whisper against his lips made Jaskier shiver. "Help me put the blindfold on?"

"Of course." Jaskier pulled the leather up to cover Geralt's eyes as the witcher put in the earplugs, checking in that the tightness was okay before tying it carefully behind his head. "What do you think?"

Geralt didn't respond for a moment, but he could feel the tension bleeding out of his shoulders, and he was sure Jaskier would be able to feel it too. The blindfold was wide enough and thick enough that it actually blocked out all light, and the earplugs worked well enough to block out the buzz of ambient noise and chatter from below them, but Jaskier was close enough he could still be heard. It was the first time in decades he had known this particular sort of peace - usually the closest he got was by slipping under the water of a bath and holding his breath as long as he could, but even that didn't stop all the light and noise. Not like this.

"Geralt? I just want to make sure you're okay." Jaskier was growing tense even as Geralt relaxed in his arms, and the witcher quickly nodded to reassure his bard.

"I'm okay. Better than okay, this is... this is really nice. Thank you, Jaskier." His voice was soft and warm, and it made Jaskier's heart leap in his chest to hear the usually-reticent witcher thank him so genuinely. He reached out a hand to trace down Geralt's arm, but pulled his hand back and leaned away when the witcher jumped.

"Geralt?"

"Still okay, just... usually I can see you, or at least hear you, when you move. I can't remember the last time I was surprised to feel someone touch me." Dimly, Geralt registered that the relaxation he was slipping into was tearing through the carefully-constructed walls he put up like they were naught but paper, but between the darkness and the ale he couldn't find it in himself to care right now.

"Huh. Can I...?"

"Please." Both of them spoke in little more than a whisper, as if the moment would be shattered by any sound too loud, as Jaskier reached out again and touched the same place on Geralt's arm. This time, the effect was substantially less, though the surprise was still evident in the brief pull of his shoulders. Geralt shivered a little as Jaskier dragged the tips of his fingers up his arm, to his collarbone and up over his throat. The air bloomed with the warm, heavy smell of arousal, and his breath caught in his chest.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," Jaskier whispered against his ear, leaving one hand wrapped loosely around his throat and bringing the other to trail up his thigh, his stomach, his chest. Geralt whimpered as he pinched one of his nipples just a little roughly, just how he knew the witcher liked, though it had never been quite so effective in the past.

Geralt's skin felt like it was on fire everywhere Jaskier touched him, his fingertips leaving trails of heat in their wake, his legs and chest a deep, constant warmth where Geralt leaned into him. He could hear his own blood pounding in his ears, could see pops of color sparking behind his eyelids as Jaskier toyed with him. Never in his life had he been so turned on so quickly, and soon Jaskier had him panting and writhing without even touching his cock.

"Color?" Jaskier's voice filled his head, unaccompanied by the usual cacophony of background noise and chatter.

"Green," Geralt gasped out. "Jaskier, please..."

"Please what?" Jaskier traced a fingertip teasingly along the waistband of Geralt's smallclothes, feeling the witcher jump in his arms. "Be specific, love."

"Touch me."

"But I am touching you."

"My cock, please, Jas, won't even take much just please let me come." He groaned as Jaskier's hand slipped down under his waistband, wrapping firmly around his cock, the hand around his throat still holding him gently in place. Lute-calloused fingers teased and stroked and Geralt's hips bucked, it was too much and not enough all at once and he reached his arms up to loop around Jaskier's neck, stretching taut as he got closer. A few more pumps of the bard's fist was all it took for Geralt to fall apart in his arms, a soft, punched-out whine escaping his throat as Jaskier worked him through it. When he was done, he collapsed back into Jaskier's lap, panting and shivering, but the bard instead guided him to lay himself out on the bed, head on a threadbare pillow.

"I won't be but a minute, I promise." Geralt felt Jaskier's weight vanish from the bed, and not being able to hear or see him was more alarming than he'd expected, but he trusted Jaskier to come back quickly. "Here." The musician helped him sit up, pressing a mug of water to his lips. "Do you want me to take the blindfold off?" he asked as he set the empty mug aside. Geralt only nodded, too tired and wrung out for anything else. He felt deft fingers untie the knot behind his head and before he knew it he was in a dark room, staring into deep blue eyes, and the affection he found in them threatened to overwhelm him yet again.

"Jas..." Geralt reached sleepily for his bard, but Jaskier only tutted.

"Soon, darling. First I want to clean you up a bit." He tugged Geralt's smallclothes down, and the witcher had to admit the cooling come trapped against his skin hadn't exactly been comfortable. He hissed through his teeth as a cold, wet rag wiped across his skin and Jaskier used a free hand to stroke his hip soothingly. "I know, hon, almost done though." Satisifed that Geralt was at least clean enough he wouldn't be uncomfortable come morning, Jaskier tossed the rag into a corner of the room with a wet thud, then shimmied down to lie beside his witcher, pulling a blanket up over the two of them. "How are you feeling?"

"Mm." Geralt's voice was heavy with pleased exhaustion and Jaskier smiled softly, placing a soft kiss to his forehead and wrapping his arms around his sturdy frame. "Wait, but you didn't..." a sleepy murmur rumbled against his chest.

"That's okay, love. Tonight was about you." Geralt made a grumpy noise at that, hugging Jaskier tighter. "Contrary to popular belief, I can go a night or two without orgasm now and then," he chuckled. "Now c'mon, get some sleep. You've earned it, being so good for me."

"Mmmfine," came the soft reply, and Jaskier threaded his fingers through his white hair as he held the nearly-sleeping witcher close.

"Goodnight, love."


	2. aren't you lovely? (praise kink)

E-B2 - Praise Kink

"Lay down, love. Yes, just like that, perfect." Geralt grunted into a pillow as he felt Jaskier settle on his thighs, silk soft on his skin, strong hands digging into the muscles of his back. Deft fingers quickly began to work out the worst of the knots, tension bleeding from his spine and shoulders as the room filled with the light scent of chamomile. Jaskier chatted quietly to himself about nothing much at all, letting his voice wash over Geralt, who was quiet but for the occasional grunt or groan in response to his hands. All too soon, the bard was done, and Geralt let out a small noise at the loss of weight as he stood. "What's wrong?"

"Stay?" Geralt tried to keep the desperation out of his voice, but he wasn't sure it worked.

"Of course, darling." Jaskier settled back on top of the witcher, knees bracketing his hips as he smoothed his hands down his back. "How's this?" Geralt groaned a quiet approval, drawing a chuckle from Jaskier as he trailed his hands lower. "You're so beautiful like this."

"Piss off," Geralt mumbled, though there was no real heat in his voice.

"No, really, you're gorgeous. You do such a good job helping and protecting people, and then you come back to me and let me help you relax, so good and obedient for me." Geralt bit back a truly undignified moan, feeling his cock begin to fill out where it was trapped between his stomach and the bed. Jaskier knew full well what he was doing, a fact that was only made clearer as he pressed his hands into the meat of Geralt's ass, massaging gently.

"Jas..." Geralt rolled his hips, unable to hold back another low moan as Jaskier's fingertips skimmed over his hole. "Fuck... don't stop."

"I wouldn't dream of it, dear. Not when you're making such beautiful noises." He pressed a finger just a little more firmly, drawing another groan from deep within the witcher's core. "Just like that, yeah, you're doing so wonderfully for me darling." Jaskier reached for the bottle of oil he'd been using on Geralt's back, slicking up two fingers and slowly pushing in first the one, then both.

Geralt pushed his hips back, trying to fuck himself on Jaskier's fingers, whining when Jaskier stilled his movements with his free hand. "Please, Jas, more... I need more..."

"I've got you, love. I'll take care of you. Just trust me." He thrust his fingers in a little deeper, curling them forward and pulling a sharp gasp from his witcher. The hand on his hip moved to run soothingly up and down his spine as his two fingers stroked that spot inside Geralt. He was trembling with the effort of not moving, and Jaskier told him again how good he was being, how proud he was of him.

"Fuck, Jaskier, wait- I- I'm gonna-"

"It's alright. Go on, come for me darling. Let me see you enjoy yourself." Geralt gasped again as Jaskier pressed on his hips, encouraging him to rut against the bed as he continued to milk his prostate. His fingers kept a steady rhythm through Geralt's orgasm, drawing it out until the witcher made a soft, almost pained noise Jaskier knew meant "too much." 

"How're you feeling, dear?" Jaskier continued to rub his back as he withdrew his fingers, wiping them on the sheets. "Think you can roll over for me? I want to see your lovely face." Obediently, Geralt rolled sideways until he was on his back, revealing the come-streaked mess he'd made of both the sheets and his stomach. "Oh, look at you, all fucked out for me from just my fingers. Aren't you a sight to behold." Geralt bit his lip, eyes shut tight against the overwhelming words as his cock jumped, still mostly hard. "Can I fuck you?"

"Fuck, Jaskier, please."

"I love how needy you are for me. But first, I'll have to clean up this mess a bit." Geralt frowned, not wanting Jaskier to get up, but his eyes shot open when he felt the bard's tongue dragging over his skin, lapping up the come on his stomach, nipping and mouthing at his scars as he did. "You're so beautiful like this, darling. Soft and pliant and needy, all for me. Just for me." Geralt's hips thrust up before Jaskier even reached his cock, whimpering at his words. No one had ever called him things like "soft" or "beautiful" before Jaskier, and he couldn't get enough of it.

Jaskier sucked and licked the come off his cock until Geralt was panting and shaking, one hand tangled in Jaskier's hair, holding on just to anchor himself, and his other arm thrown over his face as if to block out the onslaught of almost-too-much-not-quite-enough that started deep in his groin and spread out to every nerve ending in his body, tingling across his skin and flaring up his spine.

Jas- 'm gonna- I'm gonna come again, don't want to yet." 

Immediately, Jaskier let the witcher's cock fall from his mouth, sidling up to lie alongside him instead. "Thank you for telling me, darling. You're such a good boy for me." Geralt shuddered, still teetering on the edge, grabbing at Jaskier and burying his head against the bard's chest. "Hey, you okay?" Geralt nodded, a response he felt more than heard as he slowly ran his fingers through snow-white hair.

"'S just a lot. Need a minute." Thick arms encircled Jaskier's waist as Geralt felt his impending orgasm ebb, fading away and taking his shaking with it. He took a deep breath, right at the juncture of Jaskier's neck and shoulder, one of the places his scent was strongest. The warm, familiar smell helped to ground him as well, and after a few minutes he pulled back just far enough to look Jaskier in the eye. "Fucking me still on the table?"

"Well, I was planning on staying here on the bed- oh, you never appreciate my jokes. But yes, I would very much still like to do that, if you're feeling up to it."

Instead of answering, Geralt pulled him close and kissed him deeply, tasting himself on Jaskier's lips and tongue. Jaskier groaned into the kiss, grinding against Geralt's thigh as the witcher explored his mouth, nipping and sucking and grinning against his lips. As always, the kiss didn't last nearly as long as Jaskier would have liked; he simply didn't have the lung capacity for it. He finally relented to the burning in his lungs that told him the shallow breaths through his nose weren't enough anymore, and pulled away just enough to gasp a few lungfuls of air.

"How do you want me?"

"Wanna see you. Love your face when you fuck me."

"Aww. And you say you're not a romantic." Jaskier rolled Geralt back onto his back, kissing his forehead as he slid a hand between the witcher's legs, slicking his fingers with the excess oil still gathered there and pressing his two fingers back into his open hole. Geralt hissed, and Jaskier shushed him softly, peppering his face with light kisses as he teased a third finger against the rim, spreading his fingers to open him further. "You ready for me, love?"

"Gods, please, just fuck me already."

"My, my. So impatient." Jaskier kissed his neck, sucking soft bruises there as he lined himself up and entered slowly but insistently, gasping against the witcher's skin as he felt his tight heat grip his cock. "Fuck, love, you feel incredible." He angled his hips up, driving his cock up against that bundle of nerves, drawing a garbled noise from Geralt, whose back arched as he gripped tight at the bedsheets.

"Shit, Jask, I'm- Touch me, touch me please."

"How could I not, when you ask me so nicely?" Jaskier kissed him again, wrapping a hand around his cock and stroking in time with his thrusts, groaning as he felt Geralt spasm around him as he came with a shout. Jaskier slowed his thrusts, but Geralt shook his head, scrabbling at Jaskier's back.

"Don't stop, don't- don't stop." Overwhelmed, tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, and Jaskier kissrd them away, nuzzling at his cheek.

"You sure?" Geralt nodded, and Jaskier sped back up, rhythm stuttering as he grew close. "Oh, fuck, darling-"

"Come in me, c'mon, give it to me." Jaskier curled over Geralt, thrusting in as deep as he could before spilling into the witcher with a guttural moan.

"Love, that was amazing," he panted, bracing himself on his elbows to look down at Geralt, studying his face. "How are you feeling?"

"Good..." Geralt's voice was slurred, his eyes fluttering closed. "Hmn... thank you." He pulled Jaskier down into a tight hug, making the bard laugh and squirm.

"Geralt! You're all sticky, let me gooooo!"

"Hm-mm. Won't." He curled on his side around Jaskier, nuzzling into his soft brown hair.

"Okay, okay. But when we wake up, it's bath time." Jaskier grinned, scritching Geralt's scalp with one hand, the other rubbing soothingly at the small of his back.

"Hmm." A deep, rumbling purr was building in the witcher's chest, and he was more than ready for sleep.

"Hah. Goodnight, love."


	3. Never Let Me Go (sex pollen/magic)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you would think it's dubcon because sex pollen but i promise it's not. there is one very brief mention of jaskier having had bad, potentially-abusive sexual interactions in the past, but these two are very much down to fuck and open to communicate

E-G4 - Sex Pollen/Magic

"Er, Geralt?" Jaskier lifted the black shirt he'd been washing, tilting his head curiously at a pale pink powder that had settled in the creases of the fabric. "What's this? It smells like... roses, and honey?"

"Wait, what?" Geralt stood, concern knitting his brow, and grabbed the shirt, sniffing it cautiously. "Ah, fuck."

"What? What does that mean, what's going to happen to me?"

"It's pollen from an enchanted archespore in that mage's garden from a couple days ago. I thought I'd gotten it all off before I got back to camp. It's not dangerous, necessarily, just..." The witcher sighed, wrinkling his nose in distaste. He'd never cared for sex magic. "Just a bit of a problem."

"A bit? How much is a bit?" Jaskier's voice rose half an octave, quavering with fear.

"Well, we won't be able to leave camp for... a day? Maybe two."

"Why not?? Geralt you are being terrifyingly vague again."

"Shit, sorry. The pollen's an... aphrodisiac, of sorts."

Jaskier's shoulders sagged with relief. "Oh, is that all? So a quick wank should have me set to rights, then?"

"Not quite. Think more like... being fucked within an inch of your life, until it makes its way out of your system." 

"O-oh. Is... is that all?" Jaskier's heart was beating rabbit-fast in his chest, and Geralt was thankful - not for the first time - that witchers could not blush. "Wait, being fucked?"

"Well, you could do the fucking. But in all likelihood you'd get exhausted before it ran its course."

"I see. Well, er, I guess we should..."

"There are... other options. I could use Axii, have you sleep through it, but you'd probably be out for a week. Maybe more."

"Certainly not optimal. But, I mean, I'm not... it's your choice, really. Unless you think we make it to a a brothel before...?"

"Doubtful. But I don't... I'm not going to take advantage of you like this."

Jaskier barked out a laugh. "Take advantage? You can't take advantage of the willing, Geralt. If anyone ought to feel guilty here it's me."

"It's my fault you're dealing with this at all!"

"Yes, but I'm the one who stands to gain here - though this is not, to be very clear, how I ever would have wanted this to happen."

"How could you possibly stand to gain from this?"

"Are you joking?! Geralt, I've wanted to fuck you for years! Being fucked by you is a close second."

"Wait, wait, what?" Geralt's head snapped up, yellow eyes staring into cornflower blue until Jaskier looked away, the tips of his ears flushed red.

"I just didn't say anything because, well, you didn't seem like you'd be interested. And I didn't want to make things... awkward, you know, between us."

"Jaskier..."

"But, like I said, I leave it to you how you want to handle this. Just... preferably decide quickly. I feel like it just got about ten degrees hotter out here, and my trousers are starting to get uncomfortably- mmf!" Jaskier grunted as Geralt pulled him close, pressing their lips together. It was not, as kisses go, terribly refined - all clashing teeth and accidental bites, but Jaskier groaned and melted into it nonetheless, bringing his hands up to tangle in the witcher's long white hair.

"We should really talk ahout this later," Geralt murmured into the bard's mouth, tugging him into his lap.

"Absolutely." Jaskier ground his hips down against Geralt's, letting him feel just how achingly hard he already was as he shifted to kiss the column of his throat, nosing under his stubbled jaw. "But right now, I just want you to keep touching me."

Geralt tilted his head back, giving Jaskier room to nip and suck at his skin as he moved to unbutton his doublet, fumbling with the delicate buttons until Jaskier groaned in frustration.

"Fucking, just-" He tore his own doublet open, stripping it off, his undershirt quickly following suit. He grinned as he saw Geralt's eyes widen in surprise.

"Did you just...?"

"I can buy another." He tugged at the hem of Geralt's shirt, pulling it up and off as deftly as he'd removed his own, fingers tracing over scars old and new.

"Do you have any oil?"

"In my bag." Jaskier gestured vaguely behind him, already working on the ties of Geralt's breeches, reaching his hand in to palm his length through his smallclothes.

"Hang on, hang on." Geralt lifted the bard off of him, despite his protests. "Just stay there for a moment, okay?" Jaskier squirmed and complained on the ground, but stayed where he was long enough for Geralt to finish undressing and grab the vial of oil from Jaskier's pack. When he finished, he found that Jaskier had also managed to divest himself of his trousers and smallclothes, and was currently sitting in wait, one hand wrapped around his cock, stroking a slow, leisurely pace. The scent of his arousal was thick in the air, and only grew as liquid began to bead at the tip of his cock. He made a small noise as he swiped his thumb over the slit, biting his lip and leaning back on his free hand, opening one eye to look at Geralt.

"You just gonna sit there and watch?"

"You seemed to be enjoying yourself." Geralt moved closer, nudging Jaskier's hand out of the way and taking over at the same pace, noting the hitch in his breath. "So close already?"

"You're the one who - ngh - who infected me with some, some weird sex pollen. Not that I'm complaining, just don't - fuck, don't stop." It was only another moment before he was spilling over Geralt's fingers with a bitten-off groan, falling back on his elbow as Geralt stroked him through the aftershocks. Unsurprisingly, his erection hadn't gone down in the slightest. "How many times am I gonna have to do that?"

"Not sure exactly. I've encountered similar enchantments, but I don't know enough about this one to say for certain."

"Melitele save me." He let himself lay all the way back in the grass, throwing an arm dramatically over his face. The most he'd come in a row before had been three times, and that required a lot of preparation and had left him feeling tired and wrung out deep in his bones. He couldn't even fathom how this was going to feel.

"Hey." Geralt leaned over him, elbows bracketing his shoulders, voice a low rumble against his skin. "I'll take care of you, alright?" He kissed up the column of his throat, pressing his teeth in to suck a deep bruise just under his jaw, drawing a high-pitched whine from the bard.

"Fuck, Geralt, your mouth." 

"You think you're the only one with a talented tongue, bard?"

"You'll have to- have to show me some more of these 'talents' of yours."

"Gladly." Geralt kissed higher, nipping at Jaskier's earlobe and eliciting a high yelp as the bard's cock jumped. "Mm... sensitive there?"

"Very." The one-word response sounded like it had been punched out of his lungs, and trailed off into a soft moan as Geralt nibbled up the shell of his ear.

"Good to know." He kissed back down the soft skin of his throat, mouthing briefly at his warm pulse and sucking soft bruises in his wake, sliding a hand down Jaskier's side to grasp his hip.

"Don't tease me, Geralt, please. Just let me- oh, ohhh. Gods, yes." The witcher had trailed his fingertips through some of Jaskier's spend, and now he reached between his thighs, circling a come-slicked finger over his hole. Jaskier spread his legs, shameless in how badly he needed to be touched, and Geralt chuckled low in his throat.

"You're being so good for me, little lark." Jaskier keened as the praise was accompanied by Geralt's finger slipping into him, and his back arched sharply as that finger found that perfect spot inside him and he felt his second orgasm already beginning to build.

"Right there, don't stop, please don't stop," Jaskier begged. His whole body felt hot and tight as Geralt rubbed steadily over his prostate, and his arms reached up, over his head, scrabbling for something to hold, to anchor him. He felt Geralt's free hand tracing idle circles on his hip as he bucked and moaned, finally coming with a shuddering cry.

Geralt pulled his finger out, making soft, soothing sounds as Jaskier whined from the loss, hips bearing down desperately on nothing. "I know, I know. Be patient."

"I don't know if I can." Jaskier was still hard, and though the second orgasm had smoothed away some of the manic desperation, he still felt that needy heat burning in his core. "Please, Geralt, I wanna feel your cock. Want you to fuck me."

"Soon." Geralt stood and picked Jaskier up, carrying him over to where their bedrolls were set up and laying him down gently, and smears of come decorated his chest and forearms. Jaskier found he quite liked the sight of Geralt wearing his come, and Geralt had to admit he was enjoying it as well.

Geralt bundled a blanket to place under Jaskier's head as a pillow, and another went under his hips, lifting them just a little. "How do you feel?"

"Like I am going to scream if you don't put that cock inside me right this instant."

Geralt chuckled, a low rumble deep in his chest that made Jaskier's cock twitch where it rested against his stomach. "Like I said, soon. But I need to make sure I'm not going to injure you first. Are the pillows alright?"

"Yes, they're good, they're fine, please please please just fuck me Geralt." The witcher rolled his eyes, but he grabbed the vial of oil and uncorked it, a familiar scent wafting towards him.

"Is this the oil you use on your face after you shave?"

"Yes, and also the oil I use to fuck or be fucked by other men. Such as yourself, if you would kindly hurry it up." Jaskier had reached down and was stroking his cock, whining when Geralt moved his hand and placed it on the ground beside his hip.

"I said I'd take care of you, and a will." As Geralt spoke, he circled two thick, oil-slicked fingers around Jaskier's asshole, making him gasp. He pressed his fingers in slowly, gently, avoiding his prostate this time - he didn't want to completely overwhelm him. Not yet, anyway.

He scissored his fingers open and added a third, then a fourth, until Jaskier was writhing and panting on his fingers. When he felt the bard was finally ready, he shifted position and lined himself up with his slick, stretched hole, pushing in with a groan.

"Oh holy fuck, Geralt, I swear to all the gods your cock is perfect." Jaskier was babbling as he pushed into Geralt's thrusts, reaching up to brace himself on the witcher's broad shoulders. He whimpered when Geralt bent down, pressing close and nipping again at the sensitive skin of his throat, hips never faltering in their rhythm.

Jaskier's third orgasm took longer than the first two, taking its sweet time to build and build, and when he finally came it was like a wave crashed down over his body. "Don't stop, don't stop, oh, fuck, fuck Geralt," he continued as Geralt took his instruction to heart, fucking him just as hard through the aftershocks, making his vision white out as a fourth orgasm came on the back of the third, his cock dribbling the tiniest bit of come, wrung out nearly dry. "Oh, fuck, okay stop this time, that's- that was- whoo." Jaskier fell back, chest heaving, draping his arm once again across his eyes, blocking out the sunlight.

Geralt's hips stilled immediately, a worried crease beginning to form on his brow. "You alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, that was just... intense."

"Well, you... hm. You don't seem to be done yet." Geralt brushed gently against Jaskier's still-hard cock, tracing the tip of his thimb over the most prominent vein and drawing a pained hiss from the bard.

"Seriously? Fucking hells, Geralt, I don't know if I have it in me to go again. As it is, I'm not going to be able to sit properly for a week."

"I'm sorry."

"No, it's not your fault."

"I mean, it kind of is."

"Okay, well, you still shouldn't feel bad about it."

"I could still use Axii, let you sleep through the worst of it?"

"I'd... really rather not, if it's all the same to you. It was one thing to do it instead of sex, but during? Eh... let's just say I've had some bad experiences."

"Oh, shit, no no no, I meant I could let you sleep off the rest of the pollen's magic. Fuck, Jaskier, I wouldn't do that to you." Again, Geralt's brow creased with concern, this time with something softer behind his eyes.

"Ah. Apologies for the misunderstanding. Would it still take a week?" Jaskier shifted his arm, opening one eye to peek up at Geralt.

"Probably."

"Hmm. Best not, then."

"Well..." A little anxious, Geralt took a chance. "I did promise to show you what I can do with my tongue." Was that allowed? Was it okay to flirt right here, right now?

Jaskier's shiver seemed to say yes, and a moment later his voice followed suit. "Show me what you've got, darling."

Geralt pulled out slowly, carefully, hands massaging Jaskier's hips as he whimpered around the loss, before bending down between his legs and licking a hot, wet stripe up his cock.

"Oh, fuck, Geralt, warn a man!"

"Do you want me to stop?" Geralt looked up at him, raising a single snowy eyebrow.

"Absolutely not." Jaskier wound his hands through Geralt's hair, not to pull, but just to give him something to hold as the witcher took him deep into his throat far faster than most usually could. "Oh, that's... that's nice."

Geralt made a small noise, maybe a laugh? It was hard to tell with his mouth as full as it was, but whatever it was, Jaskier quickly forgot about it when Geralt swallowed, the wet heat squeezing around his cock. He bucked his hips, trying not to push too hard, but Geralt tapped his hip to get his attention and pointed at his cock, making a rather obscene upward gesture with his hand.

"You... want me to fuck your mouth?" Geralt nodded, and Jaskier wasn't one to turn down such a thoughtful invitation. He gripped Geralt's long, white hair a little harder (it was tangled, it needed washing - he'd have to see to that later) and thrust up into Geralt's mouth, pushing further down his throat with a groan.

They found a good rhythm, Geralt timing his swallows to Jaskier's thrusts, and slowly but surely Jaskier's fifth orgasm began to build. And, annoyingly, didn't stop building.

"Fuck, Geralt, I've been on the edge for what feels like hours. If I have to come any more times after this I might cry." As it was, tears were already pricking at the corners of his eyes, but he ignored them resolutely.

Geralt sat up, releasing Jaskier's cock and looking up at him, and the sight made the poor bard's cock jump even harder. His lips were red and swollen, drool dripped down his chin, and his eyes were dark with arousal - he liked sucking Jaskier's cock. He liked it a lot, it seemed. Jaskier filed that information away for later as Geralt spoke and oh, his voice was a little rougher than usual, and wasn't that something?

"Do you want to take a break?"

"No, I want to come and be done with this. Not that this hasn't been some of the best sex I've ever had, but I am bloody exhausted."

"Really? Best sex ever, huh?"

"I did say 'some of,' but yes, I'd say this definitely makes the list. Don't give me that look, it's not like I have an actual physical list, it's a figure of speech you oaf." Geralt laughed and Jaskier grinned, predicament briefly forgotten until a breeze chilled his spit-soaked cock, making his shiver. "So, what are we going to do about... this?" He made a vague gesture towards his cock, which was beginning to turn a rather violent shade of reddish purple, and he was starting to become a bit concerned for the well-being of his prized appendage.

"You could fuck me."

Jaskier's eyes widened, biting his lip briefly before responding. "Believe me, the idea is appealing, but I don't think I have the energy to sit up on my own, much less fuck you."

"I could ride you."

"Oh. Oh, now, that sounds like a lovely plan. I promise you though, next time we fuck I won't make you do all the work." Next time? Why had he said next time? Would there even be a next time? His thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of Geralt slicking his cock with oil and beginning to sink down onto him, much sooner than he'd expected. "Wait, did you-?"

"Was... fingering myself. When I was blowing you." Geralt's words were stilted, interrupted by deep, shuddering breaths as he let himself take Jaskier's cock inch by inch. Admittedly, he hadn't prepared himself quite as thoroughly as he had Jaskier, but he hadn't wanted to wait another moment.

"Do you realize how hot that is? Fucking hells, come here." Jaskier wrapped a fist around Geralt's cock, nearly as hard as his own by now, as the witcher seated himself fully on top of him.

"Shit, Jask, wait- I want to make sure you come first."

"Fine, fine. But promise me you'll let me take care of you after this?"

"I promise. Now let me do what I'm good at." Geralt took Jaskier's hands and placed them on his hips, his own hands on the ground on either side of Jaskier's head, hair hanging in a white curtain to one side. And then he began to move.

Jaskier had fucked many a willing partner in his time, all with their own perks and problems, but he'd never been ridden like this before. Geralt was fast, powerful, and tight. He was hotter than most people, literally, his witcher metabolism causing him to run a higher temperature than regular humans. And the noises he made - moans and soft, bitten-back whines as he managed to line them up so Jaskier's cock slid perfectly against that spot inside him.

"You are beautiful," Jaskier murmured, moving one hand from Geralt's hip to tuck his hair back behind his ear, letting more of the fading sunlight illuminate his face. Geralt didn't have the wherewithal, for once, to fight him on that point, and Jaskier considered it a win.

Finally, Jaskier felt that jolt of heat as his orgasm hit, his cock pulsing in Geralt's ass, though it felt like the orgasm had been entirely dry. Geralt sat up, riding him through the waves of orgasm, his movements little more than fast rolls of his hips. Jaskier wrapped a hand around his cock again, thick and heavy in his palm, and managed to dredge up enough focus to ask - "May I?"

"Yes, please, Jask, Jaskier please let me come." Geralt's words were breathy as he thrust into the circle of Jaskier's hand, and it didn't take him long to come, ropes of thick, white spend decorating Jaskier's stomach, chest, and even his neck and face a little. Geralt groaned, rolling off of Jaskier's cock and laying next to him, panting.

"I'm almost afraid to look." Jaskier laughed nervously, only half-joking. Geralt pushed himself up on an elbow, peering down at Jaskier's softening cock.

"Looks like that was the last of it."

"Oh, thank fuck. That was incredible but I am so godsdamn tired now." He yawned and stretched, rolling onto his side to face Geralt, who gave him a fond, teasing look.

"Not gonna clean up first?"

"Fuck off." His voice was partly muffled by his pillow, and he reached an arm out towards Geralt, making grabby motions. "C'mere. We'll wash tomorrow."

"What about that talk?" Even as Geralt spoke, he was moving over, pulling Jaskier closer and ignoring his own sticky, cooling come that was on Jaskier's chest, and now his chest as well.

"Talk t'morrow too." This time, it was Geralt's shoulder that muffled the bard's voice, as he pressed close and tangled their legs together. "Sleepy."

"Alright," Geralt laughed, kissing the top of Jaskier's head. "Tomorrow it is. Sleep well, little lark."


	4. just what i needed (bottom geralt)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is for dxchess, who gave me "restraints" as a prompt, and it wasn't on my bingo card but bottom geralt seemed to fit pretty well ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

E-N4 (Bottom Geralt)

This... dynamic between them was still new, and Geralt was always hesitant to ask for what he needed. Luckily, Jaskier had gotten quite good at reading the witcher's moods, and usually knew when Geralt needed to just... let go.

Today, though, he hadn't noticed and Geralt was itching for it, desperate to spend a few hours not having to make any decisions. He would have to ask. He hated asking.

"Jaskier," he started, pulling the bard's attention away from the book he was reading. He always felt bad interrupting, but he needed this and he needed it now.

"Hm?" Jaskier looked up, smiling blithely, and Geralt's heart beat just a little faster when those deep blue eyes met his.

"I need..." He paused, trying to figure out how to phrase it. Should he be direct and plain, or should he hide it behind fancy words? Fancy words were never his strong suit, that was definitely more in Jaskier's wheelhouse.

"I need you to... to tie me up."

"Oh! Of course, darling, absolutely." He stood up, tucking a silver lock of Geralt's hair behind his ear and kissing his cheek. "Go take a seat on the bed, I'll be right there." He brushed past Geralt, crouching down beside his bag and digging through it, pulling out a bundle of black silk rope and a vial of oil, and after a moment of thought he took his small pearl-handled knife as well, just in case.

"Alright, love. Go ahead and undress for me." He turned back towards the bed, never one to miss an opportunity to watch Geralt strip. He never put on a show or anything like that, but watching the expanse of scarred skin steadily reveal itself was a gift unto itself.

Once Geralt was down to his smalls, Jaskier lifted his hand, gesturing that he could stop. He knelt down in front of Geralt, who was sitting on the edge of the bed with his shoulders hunched, and tilted Geralt's chin up so he could look him in the eye. "Okay. First thing, tell me what your safeword is?"

"Posada."

"Good. What do you want out of this?"

"Wanna feel good. Don't want to have to make any decisions, just want to be here. Be yours."

"Perfect. Thank you." He kissed Geralt's forehead as he stood, then took him by the wrists, maneuvering him where he needed him on the bed. He had Geralt kneel with his arms behind his back, wrapping his wrists together with the thin, smooth rope and wrapping it around his upper arms and torso as well, keeping his arms firmly behind his back. "How's this? Too tight, pulling too much on your shoulders?"

"My left shoulder needs a little more slack, it's still messed up from that contract the other day." Geralt hated admitting weaknesses like this, but he'd learned very early on that Jaskier valued honesty, and that he would punish Geralt if he found out he'd neglected to tell him when something hurt or was uncomfortable. Sometimes the punishments themselves were nice, but that wasn't the point - he wanted to be good for Jaskier, that was the most important thing.

"Thank you for being honest with me, darling." He loosened the rope just a bit on the left side, testing the give of it. "Better?"

"Much."

"Glad to hear. You've been so good for me already, dear, I'm so proud of you." Geralt glowed under Jaskier's praise, relaxing into his touch. This was exactly what he'd been needing all day. Jaskier shifted him a little so he was kneeling in the middle of the bed, resting his weight on his heels, just like when he meditated. "Here, stay right here for me, think you can do that?"

"Hmm."

"Words, Geralt." Jaskier's voice took on just a hint of an edge, and Geralt sat up a little straighter.

"Yes, I can."

"Thank you." Jaskier started at his forehead, kissing a faint scar right at his hairline, then one above his eye. His cheek, his jaw, under his chin, down his throat. His lips were soft and warm against Geralt's skin, tracing each of his scars, from the littlest line to the angriest, most gnarled ropes of scar tissue. He kissed along his collarbone, down his chest, mouthing at a nipple on his way, grinning impishly at Geralt's responding groan. Over his ribs, down his stomach, along the waistband of his smalls and over the vee of his hips. When he was done on the front, he sidled around behind him, starting at the small of his back and kissing up his spine. He took a brief detour to kiss any scars on his arms that weren't covered by the rope, massaging the joints of his shoulders as he kissed across his shoulder blades and up to the nape of his neck. Deft fingers moved Geralt's hair over his right shoulder, revealing a nick in the shell of his left ear, which he also kissed.

By the time he was done, Geralt was breathing as hard as he did after a fight, and his cock was straining against his smalls, thick and hard.

"How're you feeling?"

It took Geralt a moment to remember how to talk, and the words came out slow and mumbled. "Good. Really good."

"Perfect. Thank you for answering." Jaskier kissed his neck again, gently lowering him to the bed, careful to keep him steady. "This okay? The weight on your arms alright?"

"Yeah, 's good. Thank you."

"Of course." Jaskier slowly tugged his smallclothes down, exposing his cock to the cool air of the drafty inn room, making him shiver. He pulled them off his legs and knelt between his thighs, pushing them apart and looking down at Geralt. Red, weeping cock, slick and shiny with precome; tight, puckered hole; strong hips and thighs. "Beautiful," he breathed, and Geralt flushed under the attention.

"'M not beautiful." The words were out of his mouth before he could think them through, and he winced a little.

Jaskier arched an eyebrow at him. "We're going to have a conversation about that later, but that's not what tonight is about. Suffice to say, I find you absolutely gorgeous and I don't want to hear any argument."

Geralt shifted his weight nervously, but didn't argue, trying to stay good for Jaskier. "Okay."

"Thank you. You're being so good for me, darling." Geralt whimpered softly, closing his eyes. Jaskier took his cock in hand, stroking it slowly from root to tip and drawing a deep groan from Geralt. "Listen to you, love, you make such gorgeous noises."

Geralt arched into Jaskier's touch, fingers twitching below him, trying desperately to cling to something as Jaskier continued his slow, measured strokes.

"I want you to tell me when you get close, alright?"

"I will."

"Good boy." Geralt groaned again at that, chest heaving as Jaskier pulled him to the edge.

"Wait, Jask, I'm- I'm close." Immediately, Jaskier let go of his cock, and he whined at the loss, tensing his whole body and trying to come back down from that knife's edge - which was a lot more difficult when Jaskier kept telling him how good he was and thanking him for being obedient. Geralt was pretty sure that, given enough time, Jaskier could make him come with words alone if he wanted to. But that was a game for another day.

"Back yet?"

"Y-yeah. Yeah." Geralt was still panting, but he no longer felt like he would come with a single touch. Which was good, because Jaskier gave him no further time to recover, holding his cock in that same firm grip and stroking again, a little faster this time, and then Geralt felt something hot and wet where his hand had been. He looked up to see Jaskier's lips stretched around his cock, and the sight alone was enough to send another surge of arousal through him.

He swore as Jaskier took down his whole length, tongue pressing and teasing as he bobbed his head, the tip of Geralt's cock moving against the soft flesh of his throat.

"I'm close again," he panted, desperately wishing he could reach down and run his hands through Jaskier's hair, straining against the ropes binding him in place. This time, Jaskier didn't release his cock, he just... stopped moving, holding Geralt's length still in his mouth and looking up at him with those impish blue eyes. It took much, much longer for Geralt to come down from the edge this time, and he was starting to ache from the effort of staving off his release.

Jaskier seemed to know when he was back from the edge again, resuming his torturous licks and sucks, making Geralt squirm in place on the rough linen sheets. He only made small movements, working him over slow and pulling needy moans from deep in Geralt's core. Everything in him shook, and he couldn't focus on anything but the haze of pleasure clouding his mind. He didn't think it could get any better than this, until he felt oil-slick fingers teasing at his entrance.

"Shit, Jask, I don't know if I can-" His voice broke on a sharp whine as Jaskier let his cock drop from his mouth, his lips sticky with spit and Geralt's precome.

"Yes, you can. I know you can, darling, and don't you want to be good for me?" Geralt whined again, a breathy, punched-out noise. "That's it, love. If you can hold out until I'm done with you, I promise it'll be worth it."

"Alright. Alright, I'll try. I... I want to be good for you." He closed his eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath.

"You're so good to me, dearest, letting me play with you like this." He ran a hand over Geralt's stomach, petting the coarse white hair that trailed from his navel to the base of his cock, two fingers of his other hand pressing into him. "You're gorgeous, you know that? Letting me open you up, making the sweetest noises for me." He fucked his fingers deeper into Geralt, curling them slightly to just graze against his prostate on each stroke.

"Oh, fuck, Jaskier, I can't, I can't-" Geralt's voice was hoarse and needy, trying to buck his hips forward into the movements, but he couldn't get any purchase with his hands tied so firmly in place.

"You can, and you will - you said you want to be good for me, remember?" Geralt nodded, the buzz of pleasure making it hard for him to think of even simple words as Jaskier added a third finger stretching him further and making him shake, arching his back and breathing in short, sharp pants.

"I will, I'll be good, but Jask it's so much, it's so fucking much."

"I know, love, I know. You're doing so well, though, I'm so proud of you for lasting so long." Geralt keened under the attention, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. He felt like he couldn't take any more, but when Jaskier pulled his fingers out the emptiness was almost unbearable, making him cry out sharply.

"Please, please Jaskier, fuck me, I need to feel you inside me," he begged, neglected cock throbbing and weeping precome all over his stomach. Jaskier unbuttoned his trousers, pulling his own cock out and slicking it with the oil, pressing slowly into him with a groan.

"Fuck, Geralt, you feel so good on my cock, it's like you were made to take me. You're so tight, fuck, I love fucking you so much." He leaned down, capturing Geralt's lips in a fierce, hungry kiss, swallowing down the whines and moans spilling from the witcher's mouth. Geralt pulled against his restraints, straining to keep from coming too soon, clenching down around Jaskier's cock, the bard's hips faltering in their rhythm. "I'm close, love, fuck I'm so close, just hold out a little longer for me, okay?"

Geralt nodded, not trusting himself to speak, focusing all his energy on doing what Jaskier wanted.

"Oh, darling, fuck, fuckfuckfuck you're doing so well, so good for me, fuck!" Jaskier came with a shout, burying himself deep and spilling inside Geralt, hot and slick. "Go on, love, come on, come for me, let go." He kissed and nipped at Geralt's throat, urging him on, and what could Geralt do but obey?

He shuddered as he came apart under Jaskier's attentions, bursts of color sparking behind his eyelids as he lay there, floating for what felt like it could have been hours before he came back down to earth, panting heavily.

"Hey, love. You back with me?" Jaskier's voice was a sleepy murmur against Geralt's ear, and as Geralt came to he realized Jaskier had removed his doublet and trousers, cleaned them both up a bit, and released his arms. "C'mon, sit up for a moment." Jaskier shifted up as he spoke, pulling Geralt to follow him. He started checking over him, rubbing away the red marks from his wrists and massaging his hands and arms gently, making sure the blood was flowing okay.

"How long was I...?"

"Just a few minutes, any longer and I would have started shaking you or something." Geralt snorted a laugh, and Jaskier beamed at him. "You'll still need a proper bath when you feel up to it, you made rather a bit of a mess, but I got off most of it. How're you feeling?"

Geralt laid back down with a satisfied grunt, arms behind his head. "Fantastic. Thank you, Jaskier. That was exactly what I needed."

"Glad to hear it." Jaskier snuggled up against his side, closing his eyes contentedly. "I certainly enjoyed myself."

"Hmm." Geralt's grunt was amused this time, but he was exhausted, feeling completely wrung out after such a long session.

"Go to sleep, my dear." Jaskier tugged a blanket up over them, kissing his stubbled cheek. "We can get you bathed in the morning."

"Hmm." His last grunt before drifting off to sleep was soft and agreeable, and Jaskier basked in it as he, too, let sleep claim him.


	5. Make me yours (A/B/O)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Card E, I1 for kink bingo - alpha/beta/omega dynamics, ft. beta!Jaskier and omega!Geralt

"Witchers don't have heats."

"Bullshit. All omegas go into heat, just like all alphas go into rut. Even people who can't bear children, fuck, even mages. What makes witchers so special?" Geralt simply levelled Jaskier with an unimpressed look from Roach's saddle, raising a snowy white brow above a cat-like amber eye. "Yeah, okay, stupid question. But you're still full of shit."

Geralt snorted, urging Roach forward just a little faster than Jaskier's walking pace. Strictly speaking, he was telling the truth - witchers, in general, did not have heats. Omegas rarely survived the Trial of Grasses; Geralt was the only omega to make it into the School of the Wolf, and he hadn't heard of any other omega witchers. So no, typically, witchers did not have heats. Unfortunately, Geralt was far from typical, and absolutely  _ did  _ have heats - incredibly intense ones, at that. Thankfully they only ever occurred in winter, when the other wolves were there to help him through it, and Jaskier never had to face or deal with Geralt's pathetic neediness. With any luck, it would stay that way.

Of course, Geralt's luck was always shit.

\---

It was late fall, weeks before the first snows would fall, and an all-too-familiar itch was beginning to build under Geralt's skin. He and Jaskier had planned to meet just north of Novigrad, in a small town with a decent inn and good ale, but he was beginning to wonder if it wouldn't be better if he began to head straight for Kaer Morhen. Eskel and Lambert wouldn't be there in time to help him through his heat, but at least he could lock himself in his own room and wait for it to pass surrounded by his pack's scent.

He knew, though, that Jaskier would never let him hear the end of it if he left him waiting all winter. The bard was remarkably good at holding a grudge, and Geralt had been on the receiving end of those grudges far too many times. So, he pushed through his discomfort, doing what he could to dull and disguise his scent lest he draw even more unwanted attention than usual. He reached the inn a few days before Jaskier, and spent more time than he cared to admit trying to sate his own need before the bard's arrival. He kept his clothes in the same saddlebag as his potion ingredients, hoping the sharp odor of herbs and monster guts would cover the pheromone-laden scent of slick and sweat until he could get to a river and wash his things.

When Jaskier did finally arrive, he brought a commotion with him - the off-key singing of the crowd drowned out his voice from Geralt's room on the second floor, and it set his teeth on edge. He gave up on meditating, choosing instead to lay on the single bed, fingers twisting anxiously in the hem of his shirt. By the time Jaskier made it up to the room, his skin was crawling and he was restless and irritable, and the rise in volume as Jaskier opened the door pulled a growl from his lips.

"Ohoho, someone's cranky!" Jaskier shut the door softly behind him, letting his bag and lute case fall to the floor and striding over to where Geralt lay on the bed, draping himself across the witcher's torso. Geralt drew in a sharp breath through his nose, and quickly realized his mistake: with Jaskier's silk doublet against his skin and his rich scent filling his nostrils, his simmering pre-heat hormones flared and burned deep in his gut. Jaskier seemed not to notice, and was halfway through a story about his most recent travels before Geralt's brain caught up with the rest of him. He sat up suddenly, pushing Jaskier off and standing, ignoring the disgruntled scowl being thrown his way.

"Have you eaten? I should- I can go get food."

"I ate downstairs, thank you though." Jaskier sat stiffly, brushing non-existent dust from his fine clothes and continuing to glare at Geralt, though now with a hint of concern behind his eyes. "What's gotten into you? You're acting… odd."

"Hmm." Geralt turned away from the bard, pretending to look for something in his pack.

"Don't you ignore me." Jaskier stood, pushing himself into Geralt's space and jabbing at his chest as he spoke. "Something's wrong, and you're going to tell- to tell me- Geralt." His features turned from indignant to confused as he scented the air, and he met Geralt's gaze with suspicion in his eyes. "I thought you said witchers don't go into heat?"

" _ Fuck. _ "

"Geralt!" Indignant fury graced Jaskier's face once more as he planted his hands on his hips. Geralt rolled his eyes, and Jaskier fumed at him, jabbing him in the chest again. "You  _ lied  _ to me! Why didn't you just tell me the truth in the first place?"

"I never thought it would be a problem."

"You  _ what _ ?!" Jaskier squawked, hands fluttering about in outrage.

"My heats have always hit in the winter, when I'm at the keep. I didn't… I didn't think you'd ever have to see it. I didn't want you to."

Jaskier sighed, letting his arms drop. "Geralt, you are a fool and you're going to be the death of me one of these days. I've seen plenty of heats, you know that, they're not something… something to be  _ ashamed  _ of, it's just something that happens!"

"Not… not my heats. They're not like other people's heats." Not for the first time in Jaskier's presence, Geralt was glad witchers didn't blush.

"How so?"

Geralt turned his gaze to the ceiling, avoiding Jaskier's eye. "They're more… intense. Harder to satisfy. I usually have Eskel and Lambert to help, and even then it isn't always enough."

"Oh." Jaskier's breath left him in a soft whisper, the tips of his ears burning red as a pink flush dusted his cheeks. "What… I mean," he coughed, clearing his throat awkwardly. "What do you do when they aren't available?"

"Wait for it to pass."

"Don't you get heatsick?"

"Hmm."

"Geralt, that's awful! Getting heatsick too often can-"

"Jaskier, I know my own biology."

"Right, right, yes, of course. Sorry. I just… don't like imagining you going through that. It sounds miserable." Jaskier worried at his bottom lip, taking a deep breath. "Well, how close are you?"

"Close. A couple days, at most."

"Shit. Okay. Do you want to stay here for it, or we could find somewhere a little more secluded to stay…?"

"We?" Geralt tilted his head, puzzled.

"O-oh, I mean, I guess I shouldn't have… Just, if you have no one else to help, I figured I could…?"

"Oh." Geralt's brow knitted tight, lined with concern. "Jaskier, I… I wouldn't make you do that." Jaskier laughed, and Geralt's consternation only grew.

"Geralt, you're not  _ making  _ me do anything, I'm  _ offering _ to help." His demeanor shifted, eyes wide with worry. "Unless you- don't want me to-? I didn't mean to push you, o-or make you uncomfortable. Fuck, Geralt, I'm-"

"Jaskier. It's okay." Geralt gave him a small smile, brief but reassuring nonetheless. "I just… Don't want you to feel obligated to help me, just because you're here."

"I don't. I promise. So what do you want to do?"

"Don't wanna stay here. Too crowded. Too… public."

"Okay. I think I passed an abandoned house on my way here, looked to be in decent enough shape. Obviously not the optimal solution, but I don't think we'd be able to make it back to Novigrad or Oxenfurt and rent a more private space."

"Hmm." Geralt started packing his things back up, rather haphazard in his haste to get out of the cramped and noisy inn. Jaskier hadn't gotten the chance to unpack, luckily, and helped the witcher gather his things. His nose wrinkled as he opened the bag of potion ingredients - and dirty clothes - and he gave Geralt a look out of the corner of his eye.

"You are close, aren't you? I can't believe you were going to just try and hide all this and hope I didn't notice."

"Give me that." Geralt snatched the saddlebag from the bard's hands, refusing to look Jaskier in the eye. "Can we go now?"

"I'm ready when you are."

"I'm ready. Let's go." Geralt opened the door with more force than was really necessary, paid off the last of his bill downstairs, and headed for the stables. He prepped Roach for the trip and led her out, following Jaskier to this abandoned house of his, hoping the bard knew what he was doing.

\---

Geralt grunted as a ghoul sliced deep into his shoulder, and he shook the creature off, dispatching it quickly with a sword through the head. His movements were slower, downright sluggish by his standards, and he grit his teeth as he fought off the last of the necrophages. When they were finally taken care of, he stumbled over to where Jaskier hid, around the corner of the house.

"You didn't think to mention the inhabitants of the house were  _ dead _ ?"

"I didn't know! I wasn't exactly scouting out places for you to spend your heat on the way here!"

Geralt grunted again, noticing with a feeling not unlike fear that his vision was going dark at the edges. He lurched forward, collapsing, and only narrowly avoided landing face-first in the mud thanks to Jaskier managing to catch him at the last second.

\---

He came to in a bed, presumably the one inside the abandoned house, and the first thing he noticed was the throbbing ache in his shoulder and the exhaustion that had settled deep in his bones. The second thing he noticed was that he was all but naked, wearing nothing but a clumsy, but effective, bandage over his wounded shoulder. He groaned as he tried to sit up, and heard someone start to speak, but his head was too fuzzy to make out most of the words. It sounded like the intent was "Don't move," though, which was echoed by the strong hands pushing him back down to the bed.

"Jaskier…?"

"Just me, yeah. Don't worry, love. You're safe."

Geralt nodded. He did feel safe, here with Jaskier, and with his heat fast approaching it affected him more than it should have, made him feel soft and warm inside. It… wasn't unpleasant, though he was loathe to admit it, even to himself.

"Swallow. Red potion." His mouth was dry and his voice was a little scratchy, but Jaskier heard him and brought the potion, uncorking it and helping Geralt sit up a little, a hand on his back helping to prop him up. He pressed the bottle against Geralt's lips, tipping it so the potion trickled down his throat, and slowly guided Geralt back down to the bed's surface.

Geralt fell asleep again as the potion did its work, and the next time he woke up, Jaskier was sitting on the ground, propped up against the bed, fast asleep. He smiled softly - the bard was only ever peaceful in his sleep, and sometimes it was almost overwhelmingly intimate to watch the slow rise and fall of his chest, see the way his features relaxed in a way they never seemed to do when he was awake. It was, perhaps, one of Geralt's favorite secret pleasures.

His shoulder was more healed than not by now, for which he was grateful, but with his body no longer focused on healing itself, his heat had begun to kick in. He knew he was right on the cusp of it during the fight with the ghouls, and he wasn't sure how much time had passed since then, but it was probably midafternoon when they left, and it looked like the sun was setting outside the window. It had definitely been more than just a few hours, so it had either been a little over a day, or - gods forbid -  _ several _ days. He really hoped it had just been the one day, or he was more fucked up than he thought. As it was, his brain was finally starting to catch up to his body, and he could feel the blood pulsing hot in his veins. With Jaskier's scent filling the little cabin, it didn't take long for him to become wet, and soon he was shifting uncomfortably in the small bed, debating whether or not to wake the bard. He'd never gone through heat with anyone but his fellow witchers, his pack; he didn't know what the social protocols for this were outside the walls of the keep.

The point was moot, though, when he began fingering himself, and a needy whine he'd been trying so carefully to push down escaped his throat. The sound startled Jaskier awake, and he turned, eyes widening with realization as he scented the air.

"Geralt! Fucking hells, you should have woken me up, hang on a minute." Jaskier stood, hastily unlacing his trousers and stepping out of them, not bothering to remove his shirt as he climbed into bed. "C'mere, that's it, come on darling." Pulling Geralt close, he nosed against the witcher's throat, nipping at his scent glands as he pushed his hand out of the way. The soft curse he let out as he pressed into Geralt's tight, wet heat was quickly drowned out by Geralt's own broken moans and low curses. He clutched at strong, scarred hips, holding him firm and fucking into him in short, sharp thrusts, murmuring words of praise and adoration against his skin.

Geralt felt like he was falling apart, coming undone at the seams, with only Jaskier's touch and Jaskier's voice to keep him grounded. It didn't take long for him to come like that, curling against Jaskier, head pressed to his chest and blunt fingernails digging into his sides. His breath came in harsh pants against the bard's skin as he came down from his orgasm, shaking like a leaf in Jaskier's arms. Soft lips pressed kisses to the top of his head, and the soft praises never ceased. They lay there for what felt like hours, Geralt basking in the golden haze of endorphins, inhaling Jaskier's scent with every breath.

"You still with me, love?" Dimly, Geralt realized Jaskier was combing his fingers through his long, white hair, and a surge of warmth blossomed in his chest. He hummed and nodded a little against Jaskier's chest, earning a huffed laugh that only brightened that warmth. "How are you feeling?"

"Better." His voice was muffled by Jaskier's skin, but he didn't care, and he had no plans to move any time soon.

"Glad to hear it."

"You don't have a knot, though." Confusion laced his words, along with the distant thought that he should know that, and he felt Jaskier's hand still on the nape of his neck.

"I'm sorry, I thought you knew. I'm a beta, Geralt, I could have sworn I told you at some point. I can… I can go find someone else, there's gotta be an alpha in a town nearby who can-"

"No, 's fine. I think I did know that. Just hadn't thought about it, I guess."

"Are you sure? I know most omegas prefer-"

"Jaskier." Geralt tilted his head to look up, his golden gaze meeting Jaskier's bright blue one. "Does anything about me remind you of 'most omegas'?"

"I suppose not, no." He kissed the top of Geralt's head again, and the witcher was pleased when his fingers resumed their combing. "I guess I'm just still a little… self conscious about it."

"Don't be."

"Oh, thanks, I hadn't tried that before, I'll get right on- ow!" His snark had earned him a bite with teeth that had no business being as sharp as they were, and while it did hurt, it also made his cock throb where it still sat inside Geralt, achingly hard. Geralt inhaled sharply at the feeling, then looked up at Jaskier with a devilish glint in his eye. Carefully, he bracketed one of Jaskier's nipples with his teeth, biting just hard enough to hurt a little, but not hard enough to cause any damage. Jaskier moaned low in his throat, shuddering and trying to steady himself with his hands on Geralt's shoulders."Here I thought… this whole endeavor was… for  _ your _ sake," he panted as Geralt began sucking softly at the sensitive flesh, still nipping with his eerily sharp teeth now and then. Jaskier rolled his hips, desperately seeking a release, tugging lightly on Geralt's hair as it became too much. The witcher simply switched sides, giving the same treatment to his other nipple, moaning around his task as Jaskier began to thrust into him with earnest.

"Wait, fuck, Geralt- Geralt stop-"

Geralt stopped, looking up at him with worry. "Everything okay?"

"Yes, gods, absolutely yes. You are perfect. I just… just need a minute." Jaskier took a deep breath, scritching his hands through Geralt's hair. "Don't want to finish too fast and leave you wanting, yeah?"

"Mmmmmfine." Geralt buried his head back into Jaskier's chest, flicking his tongue over a peaked nipple and smirking as Jaskier whined.

"Geraaaaalt." Jaskier bit his lip, trying to keep still as he willed himself back from the edge. "Darling, once I finish, you know it'll be a while before I can get it up again. How are you doing?"

"'M okay for now. You're just fun to tease."

"You're an ass, you know that?"

"Hmm." Geralt nuzzled against Jaskier's throat, drifting off to sleep without really meaning to.

\---

"Jas?" This time, when he woke, the space beside him in the bed was empty, and so was he - so empty it  _ hurt _ . "Jaskier?"

"Shit, sorry, sorry." Jaskier rushed back in from the other room, wearing only his smallclothes and carrying a bowl of assorted dried fruits and breads. "I was hungry, I didn't want to wake you up, are you-?" Geralt barely resisted the urge to make desperate grabbing motions at Jaskier, settling for laying back with his legs spread and hoping it was a clear enough invitation. "Fuck, yeah, okay." He dropped the bowl on the table, stepping out of his smallclothes and climbing quickly on top of Geralt, kissing his forehead. "Shh, I'm here, it's okay." Geralt hadn't even realized he'd been making any sound, but Jaskier's gentle shushing made him suddenly aware of a soft keen building in his throat. Gods, his heats were embarrassing.

He moaned as Jaskier slid into him, his cock meeting almost no resistance at the entrance to Geralt's slick hole, and pressed his hips up against the bard's, aching with the need to be filled.

"Fuck, Geralt, I'm gonna need another minute-"

"No, Jas, please, just come in me, fuck me and fill me up, let me feel you." Geralt would never admit to begging, but that's exactly what he was doing; if Jaskier couldn't give him a knot, he could at least pump him full of come and leave him dripping with it. Just the idea of it made his thighs shake, and he dug his fingers into Jaskier's shoulderblades as Jaskier fucked him hard into the bed, clearly as close to the edge as Geralt himself.

"Gods, Geralt, you're perfect, you feel so good on my cock, so hot and tight. You want this so bad, don't you?"

"Yes, please, give it to me, Jaskier fuck,  _ please- _ " His voice broke on a particularly brutal thrust of Jaskier's hips, and then all he could focus on was the slap of skin on skin, the hands gripping his own hips, and finally the hot pulses of come as Jaskier finished inside him. "Jas…" he breathed out, sticky with slick and sweat and his own spend painting his abdomen with streaks of white.

"You look so good like that, darling, all filled up with my come." Jaskier trailed his fingers through Geralt's spend, over his slightly swollen belly. Between the effects of Geralt's hormones and the repeated edging, if his luck held out, this would sate Geralt's heat until he was ready to fuck him again. If his luck didn't hold out, well… he'd think of something.

He peppered Geralt's face with tiny, feather-light kisses as he settled down atop the witcher. Even without a knot, Geralt had clutched so tight around his cock that he knew it'd be a little bit before he'd be able to pull out. Not that he wanted to just yet, in any case.

"How do you feel?"

"Full." Geralt really couldn't think of anything else right now, and frankly, why would he want to? He was warm, comfortable, and full of Jaskier's come - what more was there to think about?

"I bet." Again, Jaskier stroked over his belly, this time pressing his come-coated fingertips to Geralt's lips afterwards. The witcher obediently sucked them clean, groaning around the digits as he licked his own spend from them, savoring the taste of himself mingled with that of Jaskier's skin. "You still doing alright?"

He grunted, pulling Jaskier down into a tight embrace. " _ Full _ ," he repeated, nuzzling against the bard's throat, chasing his scent.

"So you said," he laughed, cupping Geralt's jaw in his hands. "Can I kiss you?" The witcher nodded, and Jaskier leaned in, brushing his lips lightly against Geralt's before pressing further, deepening the kiss expertly. Geralt was dizzy with the scent of him, the  _ taste _ of him, and he never wanted it to end. "You're beautiful like this, you know that?"

"Like what?" Geralt's brow furrowed - he felt incredible, but he knew he must look a mess right now.

"So… pleased. Satisfied. You look more relaxed than I think I've ever seen you. I like getting to see you enjoy yourself."

"Hmm." Witchers, as a rule, didn't blush, but witchers also, as a rule, didn't go into heat. Geralt could feel his face heating up, his cheeks flushing in the way they only did when he was in heat. Jaskier, thankfully, didn't comment on it.

"Will you be okay if I get up for a moment?"

"Yeah, but… be quick."

"Of course, love." Jaskier pressed a kiss to his forehead, pulling his softening cock out and watching as a bit of his come spilled out between Geralt's legs. Now  _ that  _ was a sight he wouldn't soon forget. He shook his head, refocusing, and got up to relieve himself before finding a few towels and some water.

"Here, drink." One hand helped Geralt sit up while the other pressed a mug of water to his lips, tipping it so he could drink once he was ready. When the cup was empty, he set it aside, dipping a towel in a basin of water he'd also brought over. "Sorry the water's a bit chilly," he warned before wiping the cool cloth delicately over Geralt's chest and stomach. The witcher whined, and Jaskier ran a hand through the sparse white hair on his chest. "I know, I know. Almost done." He didn't bother trying to clean between Geralt's legs, he knew there was no point with how wet Geralt kept getting. "How are you feeling?" he checked in as he tossed the dirty towel back beside the basin.

"Lonely." This time, Geralt  _ did  _ make small grabbing motions at Jaskier, pulling him close and curling up as small as possible in his arms. Jaskier held him gently, running his fingertips delicately over scars old and new, stroking his hair. He began to sing quietly, an old song from long before either of them were born, a lullaby about a child playing in a river. It was just a little nonsense song, but it was the fact that Jaskier was singing it for  _ him _ that made Geralt cling to him a little tighter, twining his legs with the bard's.

Eventually, despite how full he was, Geralt started to feel that desperate need building in the core of his being. He pawed clumsily at Jaskier, trying to get him to get on top of him, but the bard stopped him.

"It's still gonna be a minute til I can go again, darling." Geralt whimpered, the thought of having to wait making his stupid heat-addled brain want to cry. "Shh, shh, hang on. I have some ideas, okay? This isn't my first time getting someone through heat, I've got a few tricks up my proverbial sleeve."

Jealousy flashed white-hot through Geralt and he grabbed Jaskier, kissing him fiercely, urgently. He knew, on some level, that Jaskier was not his to claim - but he also  _ really _ hated the idea of him sleeping with anyone else, especially someone in heat. He nipped at Jaskier's lip, sucking harshly, wanting to mark the bard as his and only his. He pulled back when Jaskier pushed at his chest, eyes widening a little as he saw blood welling up on his lower lip. "Shit, Jas, I'm sorry, I-"

"Hey, no, it's okay." Jaskier licked the blood from his lip, and Geralt groaned despite himself at the pink flicker of tongue. "I should have known better than to bring up any past… dalliances. But I'm here now, with you, and there's nowhere else I'd rather be - alright?"

Geralt nodded, guilt still gnawing at his chest, but less aggressively now.

"Good. Now, as I was saying, I have a few ideas from wholly mysterious sources-" Geralt snorted a brief laugh at this. "-so if you'll just bear with me for a moment?" Geralt nodded and Jaskier laid him back down on the bed, settling between his legs. He started by kissing his way up Geralt's thighs, stopping right as he got close to his hole, sucking bruises into the delicate skin there, making Geralt moan. He kept kissing, biting, and sucking all around his hips, never quite touching his cock or the rim of his hole, until Geralt was a needy, shivering wreck beneath him.

"Jaskier,  _ please _ ," he whined, clutching at the sheets and tearing small holes in the fabric. He couldn't remember being this turned on in his  _ life _ , and he could feel tears pricking the corners of his eyes. He threw his head back with a punched-out gasp, kicking one leg out as Jaskier finally took pity on him, taking his cock into his warm, wet mouth and slipping two fingers easily into his hole. Jaskier's tongue teased around his cock, finding all the most sensitive spots and honing in on them until Geralt couldn't take it any longer, needing something more in him, needing something to latch onto so he could come.

Jaskier kept sucking his cock as he added a third finger, then a fourth, to his hole. Geralt choked as he felt Jaskier's thumb join his fingers, his whole hand inside him, and when he curled it into a fist Geralt tipped over the edge with a cry, reaching up over his head to grab the headboard as an anchor, his hips bucking up against Jaskier's mouth.

  
  


" _ Hah _ … Fuck… Jas, Jas no more, I can't…  _ Nf… _ " He fell back into the bed as Jaskier finally let up, letting his cock fall from his mouth, carefully uncurling his fist, but leaving his hand where it was for now. He readjusted so he could lay beside Geralt, his free hand tucking a lock of hair behind the witcher's ear.

"So? How was it?"

Geralt could only whimper in response, still overwhelmed, hips still jerking every so often as he rode out the last of the aftershocks. It wasn't a knot, it didn't feel the same as one, but it satisfied the urge to be filled with something  _ big _ , and combined with all the teasing beforehand he knew they had a bit before his next wave hit.

"Can I…?" He tugged his hand a little and Geralt snapped his legs together, shaking his head. He couldn't stand the thought of being empty right now, not after all of that. "Okay." Jaskier slipped just his thumb out, using it to stroke the rim of his hole, drawing out another shuddering moan. "Gods, look at you. All fucked out and so wet for me, you're gorgeous, love."

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"The… the names. The compliments." Jaskier didn't typically lay the compliments on so thick, but the names were par for the course, and Geralt had always wondered why.

"Because you deserve more kind words. People are rarely kind to you, love, no matter what you do for them or how you help them. I can't stop them from being cruel, but I can show you the kindness you deserve." Jaskier kissed his cheek, nuzzling gently against his stubbled jaw. Geralt flushed pink again, unable to think of a response, heart thudding in his chest. He knew Jaskier always got angry when people treated him with cruelty, no matter how many times he explained that that was merely his lot in life - but he hadn't realized how much effort Jaskier put into trying to  _ counter _ that cruelty. In retrospect, it was obvious, and he felt foolish for not realizing sooner.

"Thank you," he murmured after a beat, rolling over to curl into Jaskier's chest again. He grunted as Jaskier's hand shifted inside him, biting his lip, still overwhelmingly sensitive. Normally his heats were much more… aggressive, needing near-constant fucking to keep him even close to sated. Here, though, he felt safe and comfortable in a way he never did at the keep, even with Eskel and Lambert at his side. It was nice, pleasant, almost, and he was fairly certain he had Jaskier to thank for the difference.

\---

They spent another couple of days like that, wrapped up in each other. Jaskier made sure they ate and drank, held Geralt through the worst of the emotional spikes, and showered him with kisses and compliments. By the end of the third day, Geralt felt strung-out and weak, exhausted in the best possible way. His thoughts were foggy and he did little more than follow Jaskier's directions, eating and drinking when told, letting him know when his need began to grow again.

"You with me, love?" Jaskier kissed the top of his head, rubbing his back as he came down from another orgasm.

"Hmm." Geralt nodded against his chest, curled up in his arms again; it was quickly becoming one of his favorite places to be.

"How're you feeling?"

"Think next time'll be the last."

"Oh?"

"Mhm." Geralt chewed his lip for a moment, debating something. "Betas… betas  _ can _ knot, right?"

"Yeeeees," Jaskier replied hesitantly. "If we mate an omega, we develop a knot. It's not usually as large as an alpha's, but…"

"Can… Will you…?"

"You want me to knot you?"

"Mhm." Geralt nodded, face heating up. He knew it was a lot to ask - mating wasn't inherently permanent, but it was never a pleasant process to let a mating bond dissipate, and he also didn't know if Jaskier would be comfortable mating him in the first place.

"I… Geralt, I'd love to, but- are you sure? I don't want you to… to regret it."

"I won't," Geralt answered hastily. In all honesty, he'd been considering the idea for years - of asking Jaskier to be his mate. He assumed no one would ever want to mate a witcher, but he'd also assumed no one would ever want to travel with a witcher, or get one through heat, and Jaskier had proven him wrong on each count. "Jaskier, I… I want this. Not just the sex, it's not just about your knot, I want… I want  _ you. _ "

"Oh." Jaskier sounded breathless, and his eyes began to glimmer with tears. Geralt recoiled, feeling like the air was being choked from his lungs.

"Fuck, Jas, it's- I'm sorry, forget I even asked, I-"

"No! No, Geralt, darling no. It's okay." Jaskier drew him back into his arms, holding him close. "I've wanted this for- for years, Geralt. I didn't want to ask, you always seemed so reluctant to let people into your life, I… Gods, yes, Geralt of course." Jaskier laughed wetly, cupping Geralt's jaw in his hand and kissing him over and over. Geralt leaned into the kiss, grasping at Jaskier wherever he could reach.

When his lips were kissed numb and he felt the first stirrings of his last wave of heat, he rolled his hips against Jaskier's, whining. He turned over and pulled his hair to the side, revealing the unblemished skin at the nape of his neck - the largest expanse of his skin left unscarred. Jaskier kissed the soft, smooth skin, nipping and sucking until Geralt began to writhe and plead, begging for Jaskier's hands, his cock, his teeth. Jaskier sank his teeth deep into the sensitive flesh, breaking skin, feeling the flood of hormones as the copper tang of blood met his tongue. Geralt whimpered, wrapping a hand around his cock just to get a hint of relief. He groaned as he felt Jaskier's cock against his hole, thick and hard as it pushed into him.

Jaskier fucked into him in long, slow thrusts, drawing it out. Geralt bit his lip as he felt the swelling of Jaskier's knot bump against his entrance, and he pushed his hips back greedily.

"You ready, love? You want my knot?"

"Fuck, yes, Jaskier, please please please  _ FUCK- _ !" Geralt cursed as the knot pushed into him, fat and hot as it stretched and filled him. "Gods, Jas, Jaskier it's so much, I can't, I can't…"

"You can, I know it, shh. I've got you." Jaskier ran one hand soothingly along his spine, the other coming around to join Geralt's own around his cock, stroking firmly as he pressed in the last inch or so. He groaned as his knot swelled even further, Geralt's hole tight and hot around him as he began to spill into the witcher, pumping him full beyond what he'd ever thought possible. Geralt let out a sob as he came, clutching tight around Jaskier's cock, locking him in place. He scrabbled at the sheets, grabbing Jaskier's arm and holding onto it for dear life as he rode through the last of his heat.

He leaned back against Jaskier's chest as he came down from it, chest heaving, his whole body shaking.

"Geralt. Geralt, I think I'm stuck."

"That's what knots do."

"I know, I mean, I knew that, but  _ feeling _ it is different!" Geralt huffed a laugh, and even without turning over to look he could imagine the indignant expression on Jaskier's face. "Oh, excuse you! Why don't I stuff your cock somewhere and leave it stuck there, see how you feel about it, hm?"

"Good luck with that."

"Fuck you."

"That's your job."

"Suppose it is, isn't it?" Jaskier nuzzled against the deep bite at the back of Geralt's neck, making him shiver. "Now, I don't know about you, but I feel like I could sleep for a week."

"Sounds about right." Geralt nestled himself further against Jaskier, fitting himself into the curve of his body for what he knew would be a long while yet - he was always out for hours after he came out of heat. When he awoke, he'd need to bathe and eat, and he and Jaskier would need to talk about where they stood - but that could wait. For now, all he wanted to do was sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is actually my first a/b/o fic i do believe, so sorry if it's a mess 😅

**Author's Note:**

> Tags will be updated as I add new chapters, hope you enjoy!


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